Deflection
by LongTimeFan
Summary: One event. Several moments in time. Each told from a different perspective.
1. Chapter 1

Captain Power: Deflection

By LongTimeFan

Rating: T

Disclaimer:The following is a work of fan fiction based on the television series, _Captain Power and the Soldiers of the Future_. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of Landmark Entertainment Corporation or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I don't own the characters. Only using them for a short time and will return them in relatively the same shape as when borrowed. As always, any errors or inconsistencies are of my doing.

Author's note: I know it's been a while since I have posted, but real life threw me a nasty curve that has taken a long time to fight back from. This is an unusual piece - not necessarily a story, but rather several moments in time. It would not leave me alone and if I did it justice, you too will be screaming for an explanation of what happened. If my muse is kind enough to share it with me, I'll pass it on to you. Enjoy.

The searing flash of the explosion caused Corporal Jennifer Chase's eyes to water and ears to ring. Immediately, the world around her seemed to flutter and wave as shapes changed and colors blended randomly. Objects moved past her in slow motion and yet part of her knew they had to be rushing by at the same time.

Too late another thought appeared. Perhaps it was she who was moving.

The impact of her body on the ground drove the air from her lungs and pain seared through her side. Vaguely she was aware of the tingling sensation caused by the electrical impulses of her suit malfunctioning and shutting down. The residual stinging felt like a million tiny pins pricking her skin.

Distorted voices penetrated the recesses of her mind. The others were calling for her, ordering her to report her status. She heard the concern and fear in their tones.

She hated to worry them. Yet the words to form a reply eluded her. It was as if the ability to form a sentence was gone.

Without warning a face loomed above her. It was distorted, wavering. Squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment, she opened them again to see it had come closer. She could feel a puff of air each time the lips moved to call her name.

A hand brushed back the hair from her face and rested on her cheek. The hand was gentle on her skin. Recognition flowed through her soul. "Jon," she croaked, reaching out to him.

"You're going to be okay," Jon said, his eyes darting from her to scan the surrounding area. "We'll get you out of here and fixed up in no time," he assured her, looking back down.

His stilted smile could not hide the apprehension in his eyes. She knew they were in danger and the longer he stayed with her, the worse it would become. "Go," she moaned, closing her eyes. "Get out of here."

"You're coming with us."

Pilot's head lulled toward the new voice. "Hawk," she breathed, acknowledging the second man who had appeared beside her.

"In the flesh," Matt teased, squeezing her shoulder. She could hear his tone lower as he added, "Tank and Scout said Blastarr's moving in quick."

She knew he hadn't meant for her to hear the last part. That had been for the Captain.

"We've got to get to the ship," Power urged. "Jennifer, listen to me, we've got to go. Can you get up?"

She knew what he wanted, what they both wanted. Her body however did not want to comply. "Side," she whispered, her hand moving towards it.

Whimpering, Jennifer tried to pull away from the fingers that were suddenly probing her body. The movement amplified the waves of pain and caused her vision to again dim. Vaguely she was aware of the smell of seared bushes and the sound of blasters firing nearby.

Ignoring her protests, arms pulled her body upward. The world again danced and twirled a harried motion of changing altitudes, positions and tones. Garbled voices spoke at her, their words unrecognizable in the din. The hurried timbre of their speech relayed a sense of urgency driving her forward.

Her feet alternated between taking steps and dragging as she was rushed toward their new destination. Each stumble was met with arms pulling her body upright, propelling her away from the whining bolts of energy she could hear dancing all around them.

"DOWN!"

Instinctively, she threw her body to the ground at the single command from Hawk. The feel of a body pressing onto hers was nearly lost in the agonizing pain as broken bones pressed further into tissue. Black spots blended with the smoke and dust in her vision. The ground shuddering from the nearby explosion drowned her ragged breaths and moans out.

Just as quickly as she was down, arms again pulled her to her feet pressing her forward. Each step was harder than the last as her strength continued to fade. Stumbling, she felt an arm slide around her waist, raising her body and pressing it against another. Harried voices compelled her to keep going. They were almost there. They were almost to the ship.

Time and distance was irrelevant to her now. Breathing and moving were her goal. Her mission. Her necessity.

The feel of metal slamming into shins caused her to instinctively reach for a handhold to pull her self up. Before she could find the strength to climb a step, huge hands gripped her shirt and lifted her from the ground.

Just as quickly as she had been elevated, she felt cold metal and cloth against her back as she was eased down. The world became a melee of conflicting sensations. The metal and wire contraption that cradled her vibrated and pitched as it came to life and sprang from the earth. At the same time, hands alternated between keeping her in place and gently tending to her wounds. She flinched as a cloth was pressed against her head. Other hands ran down her body, pausing briefly to systematically apply pressure at various points.

Briefly, Chase felt the cool wisp of air passing over her face. It was replaced by the feel of a mask pressing on her features, forcing the life saving mixture into her nose and mouth.

Despite the calls for her to stay with them, the blackness beckoned her. She felt the world around her slowly fade and slip away.

The faint rustle of cloth and sounds of footsteps penetrated the void and confirmed she was not alone. She had no sense of how much time as passed. She only knew that the pain she had felt earlier was gone.

Forcing her eyes to open, she scanned the small room until they landed on the men milling on the other side of it. She saw Tank tense as her eyes met his.

"Captain."

Tank's softly spoken word brought all of the men's attention to her. Quickly they bridged the gap between where they had been and where she laid.

"Look who's awake," Scout teased, smiling. "How ya feeling? Hey, hey, leave that alone," he chided, grabbing her hand has it moved toward the bandage on her head. Squeezing it slightly, he placed it back on the linens. "That needs to stay there for a little while."

Watching the faces of the men around her, Chase could read the fatigue and worry in their features. "Bad?" Chase asked, her voice raspy.

"Nothing that time and a little rest won't cure," Jon assured her, patting her shoulder.

Again scanning their faces, Jennifer finally nodded when she saw confirmation of his half-truth reflected in their eyes. They were here and she would heal.

Death had been deflected one more time.

The end (at least for now)

11/10


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Well, it seems my muse has deemed to provide us all with a little more information about that moment in time and events after it, only this time it is from a little exploration of Tank's point of view.

CP-CP-CP

Lieutenant Michael "Tank" Ellis could feel the wave of energy and heat as it rolled outward from the explosion. Its force staggered him, momentarily causing him to take a step backward. He did not however miss the sight of Pilot's body being flung backwards. Although he knew it was impossible because of the distance between them, he could swear he heard her body slam into the ground.

Immediately the sound of the Captain's voice calling for her to report echoed through his communications link. There was no point in waiting for her reply.

"Pilot's down."

His terse words would cut like daggers into the others. The thought burned him, causing him to lash out even harder at the biomechs that were trying to kill him. Ignoring the shots that were bouncing off his armor, he stepped in front of the wall he had been behind. He did this without hesitation.

They had to be eliminated. They stood between him and his team.

"I've got Pilot. Hawk and I will get her out. You and Scout get to the ship and prep it. We'll meet you there."

A chorus of discordant sounds from the dying biomechs around Tank punctuated the Captain's words. Turning to scan the vicinity to ensure he had eliminated any of the mechanized solders that were near by, Ellis spotted Hawk advancing toward his downed comrades.

At least the Captain and Pilot were no longer alone.

"Tank, coming at you."

Locating Scout, Michael turned his attention to protecting the remaining member of his family. As the smaller, lithe man bounded across the open space toward him, Ellis could see he was being chased.

"About time you got here. I was getting bored," Tank quipped to Scout as he slid to a halt beside the big man. Even before he spoke, Ellis had begun to fire at the advancing forces, eliminating any threat they may pose.

"Traffic," Baker retorted watching his pursuers fall. Slapping Tank's arm, Robert nodded his head to tell him it was time for them to move. Before they could move however, a sensor on Scout's suit signaled. Pulling his scanner, the younger man frowned. "Uh oh. We're about to get even more company."

Understanding both the words and readings before him, Tank nodded. "Captain. Hawk. Blastarr's coming to join the party. Two klicks, max."

"And he's moving fast," Scout added, comparing new readings to the ones taken just seconds before.

"Roger. Get going," Power replied.

Together the two weaved and advanced through the melee to reach the ship. Taking up a position outside of it, Ellis paced nervously straining for the first sign of the others. It was a good chance they would need some cover fire and he was ready to give it to them.

"Tank we need some help."

"I'm on my way," Ellis growled, starting in a trot back towards the installation.

"No time. Send a couple grenades our way. South, southeast."

"Too dangerous. I can't see you," Tank snapped back.

"If you don't, we aren't going to make it there," Masterson barked in return.

Over the link, Tank could hear the deluge of blaster fire, some pinging off of the power suits. He needed to get where they were. The decision was ultimately made for him however by the sound of the Captain's terse snap.

"Stay there and do it. If we aren't there in three minutes, you and Scout take the ship and get out of here. That's an order."

Power's unspoken message of their impending death chilled the large man. Raising the weapon to his shoulder, Michael had to quell the voice in his head that told him not to fire. He was a soldier who had been given an order. He had to do it.

Triggering off three rounds, Ellis had barely lowered the launcher before he heard Hawk voice over the link yelling for them to get down followed by the explosions in the distance.

"Hawk? Captain?" Tank called into his communications link. Static was the only response to his words.

Mentally he began to count the seconds in his head while his mind and heart raced.

He hated himself for what he had just done. Nothing ever changed. Eventually, everything came down to the same thing - why he had been placed upon this earth. It was for only one purpose, one reason: to be a killer.

From the time he was old enough to hold a weapon, his only purpose was to follow the orders he was given. And he was to do it without hesitation; without regret. With no thought of the pain, misery and death he might be inflicting on the humans around his target.

Starring at the instrument of death in his hands, he wanted to crush it, destroy it – it and everything other weapon like it. Tightening his grip, he could feel the cold metal push back, pressing into his flesh, defying his desire to destroy it. It would not go easily.

A bark of sardonic laughter escaped Michael's lips as he watched blood begin to drip from his hand. Somehow it seemed only fitting that there be some physical evidence of the death he had brought upon those closest to him.

Perhaps he'd become like the queen in one of Shakespeare's plays – destined to slip into madness as he tried to escape from what he hated the most - the blood of others on his hands.

Another derisive snort escaped his lips as the warrior in him said it was time to go. There was no reason to wait any longer.

Three minutes and thirty-three seconds after the sounds of the blasts, Tank stood in the doorway of the jump ship to take one last look back. A final glimpse at the ground that would forever change the destiny of the few remaining humans left in the world.

The spot where he had killed their last hope.

"There."

Scout's excited tone caused Tank to look up. A smile crossed his features at the sight of the others hurrying toward the ship, the Captain nearly carrying Pilot while Hawk covered their backs.

When they arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Tank reached down and lifted Chase into the ship by her jersey. Easing her down on a bench, he patted Robert on the back before moving to his station.

Blastarr was sending a barrage their way. He had to fight again.

It was the one thing he had been put on this earth to do.

CP-CP-CP


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Thanks to Windjammer's encouragement, what started out as just random moments of time from Pilot's perspective is becoming much more. In case you have not figured it out by now, you are getting more of the story, each segment from the view of one character. The explosion and conversations give you a point of reference as to where the character being explored is in relation to the others at any point. By the time I am done, if I've done my job, most, if not all, of your questions will have been answered. Thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you think.

CP-CP-CP

Easing down on a hill overlooking the installation, Sergeant Robert "Scout" Baker scanned the layout of the buildings before him. Watching the patrols as they moved systematically from point to point, a sense of uneasiness crept over him.

He did not like what he saw.

It all seemed a little out of place – just enough supplies sitting around so it looked functional, yet, not enough to keep a compound of this size running. Transports that looked they could barely move troops across the compound let alone deliver them anywhere else. Biomechs on patrol, but no sign of anyone of authority monitoring them.

Pulling the scanner from his belt, he scanned the area, stopping on each building. Minimal energy; nominal life forms. Something was definitely not right.

Watching as the troopers passed each of the small structures visible above ground, Scout frowned as he realized there was not a single scientist, technician or overunit to be seen. He'd feel better if there was even a Dread youth running around.

"Captain, something not right here," Baker reported.

"What do you have, Scout?" the Captain answered from the other side of the compound.

"Too many tin cans, not enough energy signal," Scout answered back. "If this is Dread's newest hangout, I gotta tell ya, whatever is in here is not mechanical in nature."

"Maybe it's a supply depot," Hawk offered.

"Whatever it is, it's suppose to be instrumental in Dread's next step," Power stated. "We need to find out what's it is."

"Captain," Pilot chimed in. "The building to my right; it's an emergency exit from the underground facility. I should be able to get us in."

A moment of silence met Chase's statement. "All right but be careful," was the eventual reply.

Watching as the younger woman scampered across the compound from her hiding place, Scout's uneasiness grew. That had been a little too easy. The patrols who had been so faithfully passing had chosen that moment to take another route.

Pulling his scanner, he once again surveyed the buildings. Pausing on the largest structure, he keyed in various settings. Ah, there, a dampening shield. There was more energy being used than he first thought.

Keying in another setting, he honed in again on the largest entrance, looking for some sort of underground facility. Alarm bells went off in his head as he looked at the ultrasonic images being bounced back at him.

Tin cans. And a lot of them. Waiting.

"PILOT! NO! IT'S A …"

The explosion drowned out the remainder of his words. Helplessly, all he could do was watch as Jennifer flew through the air and slam into the ground yards from the now burning shambles.

He could hear the anxious calls of the Captain, calling for her to report. It was Tank however who replied.

"Pilot's down."

A sickening sense of horror descended on Scout. He had no time to dwell on it however as shots began bouncing around him. Returning fire, the young communications officer was stunned at the sheer number of troopers pouring from the building. There had to be at least two hundred of them.

"We've got company," Baker snapped, picking off the lead ones in the hope their bodies would slow down the ones coming after. "And a lot of them. Dread's got to be throwing everything he's got at us."

"Warning. Biomech eleven oclock."

Scout spun and dipped in response to the proximity sensor in the suit going off. Managing to avoid the point blank blasts of energy that had been heading for him, he returned fire, destroying the troopers. That explained where the north patrol had gone. Turning back around he realized that the mechanical soldiers coming from the building had broken off into waves, each directed toward one of the team.

"I've got Pilot. Hawk and I will get her out. You and Scout get to the ship and prep it. We'll meet you there."

That meant the majority of the troopers were going to be convening at the same spot where they were. "Captain, you've got a whole bunch of tin cans coming in on your six," Baker reported, knowing there wasn't much else he could do from across the installation.

But with another member of his team, now, that was a different story all together. Darting out, he took off at a run across the western edge of the compound toward Tank's position.

"Tank, coming at you," he yelled, spinning to run backwards to snap off shots at his pursuers. He didn't like the way the odds were stacking against them. Turning, he sprinted across the last open space between him and the one-man attack force. Leaping over the last of the dead soldiers on the ground between him and Ellis, he noted that Tank had already taken out several squads of the enemy.

He had barely slid to a halt beside the older man before Tank was firing, mowing down the troopers intent on capturing or killing them. "About time you got here. I was getting bored," the big man quipped, laser blasts punctuating his words.

"Traffic," Baker retorted. As the last of the troopers sang its discordant melody, Scout slapped the big man on the arm in appreciation. There was definitely something to be said for having the big man on your side. Starting to move, Baker halted as a warning sensor from the ship chimed in his suit.

Pulling the scanner from his belt, Baker grimaced. Not what they needed at all. "Uh oh. We're about to get even more company." Holding out the screen, he showed it to Ellis.

"Captain. Hawk. Blastarr's coming to join the party. Two klicks, max," the Lieutenant reported.

"And he's moving fast," Scout added, comparing new readings to the ones taken just seconds before. That big ol' bucket of bolts was definitely on a mission to get to area before they could leave.

"Roger. Get going," Power's reply echoed in his helmet.

Catching Tank's eye, he could see his own hesitation reflected there. Scout had no doubt that both of them wanted the same thing - to go help the Captain and Hawk with Pilot.

Still, if they all survived and had no way to leave the area, then… well, it was sorta a moot point. And besides, the alternative wasn't very pretty either. If they were all captured or killed, there was way too much valuable intel on the ship for it to fall into Dread's hands. If that happened, the entire resistance was done. Both of them knew it.

They had to go to the jumpship. If they couldn't secure it, they needed to destroy it.

Nodding once, Scout took the lead. Together the two weaved and advanced through the melee to reach the ship. His fingers danced over the controller on his arm causing the cloak that had been shielding it from detection to shimmer away.

Tank took up a defensive position outside as Scout triggered the door. Bounding up the stairs, he habitually scanned the interior as a double check that no unwanted visitors were in it. Seeing none, he moved to the front, slipping into Pilot's seat.

It was going to be a quick preflight check. Running through the procedure to make sure that nothing had been tampered with, Robert couldn't help but wonder about Jennifer. A wave of guilt passed through him as he wondered how badly she was hurt. If only he had figured out quicker that it had been a trap.

Things would not be the same if she was gone.

They'd already been there once and had barely survived. They had become harder, colder. More reckless. It seemed that extracting revenge for her death was more important than saving the few humans that were left.

He wasn't sure they would make it through again.

"Tank we need some help."

The call brought Scout from the seat. Even before he had gained his feet, he heard Ellis' reply.

"I'm on my way."

"No time. Send a couple grenades our way. South, southeast."

"Too dangerous. I can't see you."

"If you don't, we aren't going to make it there," Masterson snapped back.

"Stay there and do it. If we aren't there in three minutes, you and Scout take the ship and get out of here. That's an order."

The Captain's words sent a chill through the younger man. Things had to be pretty bleak for him to order them to leave.

"Sorry, Captain. That's not going to happen," Baker murmured, moving over to the command console. "Mentor," Baker called. "Activate auto-destruct sequence. Ship and base. T minus 30 minutes. Notify the team at t minus 2." That was long enough that either it would be deactivated or it meant none of them had made it and everything needed to be destroyed.

"Authorization code?" the computer asked.

"Baker, Robert. Code name Scout," he voiced, typing in his personal authorization code.

"Authorization accepted. You have thirty minutes to reach a safe distance or enter the deactivation code," Mentor reminded him.

Satisfied he would meet the intent of the Captain's order if not the letter of it, Baker met Ellis at the doorway of the ship. Before Scout could tell him that they were going to get the others, he spotted three bedraggled figures coming into view. Power was virtually carrying Pilot while Hawk provided cover.

"There," he said, raising his arm to point toward his approaching teammates. Slapping the big man on the shoulder, Scout turned to deactivate the self-destruct.

No need for the Captain to know they were going to disobey him.

The joviality of the thought disappeared as Tank lifted a barely conscious Pilot into view. Leaping into the hold, he reached up and took her bloodied form, helping to ease her onto a bench.

It wasn't pretty.

"Easy Pilot," Baker soothed, as the ship shuddered from the firepower hitting it. Pressing a cloth against her bleeding scalp, he braced his arm across her body steadying both of them as the ship launched.

Feeling the ship climbing, Scout lifted up the bandage and looked at the damage to her head. He grimaced before moving his attention to assessing for other injuries. Running his hands down her body, he felt several broken bones and numerous cuts and bruises.

Staggering from the bolts of energy slamming into the side of the ship, Baker grabbed the oxygen and slipped it on her face. The mask muffled her raspy breaths and seemed to take away the one sure sound that told him she was still with them.

"Tank, sidewinders when Hawk brings us around," Scout heard the Captain yell over his shoulder. "Try to blind him."

Sidewinders. That meant Soaron had thrown his ugly mug into the mix also. Just great.

"Hang in there, Jennifer," Robert whispered, as he felt the jump ship launch through the teleportation gate. "Just stay with us."

CP-CP-CP


	4. Chapter 4

CP-CP-CP

There wasn't much left in the world that Major Matt "Hawk" Masterson hadn't seen. He'd been to every corner of the globe, some parts of it more times than he could count. Since the metal wars alone, he has scoured the North American continent, looking for signs of life in the rubble that had once been filled with lush land and vibrant cities.

There was even less that he had not felt in his time on the planet. He'd hated and adored; had been frustrated and amused; been weary and elated. He'd experienced love in all of its many facets as well as the overwhelming grief that came with losing that love. A thousand other emotions had poured through him over the years – glee, contentment, bitterness, envy and joy to name only a few. That's why he didn't think there was much left to feel that he hadn't already.

He found that he was wrong.

It wasn't until the moment that he heard Scout's warning being cut off by the explosion that he felt overwhelming fear. For a moment it paralyzed him. Frozen in space, he could hear the Captain's frantic calls for Pilot to report her condition. It was Tank however who answered.

"Pilot's down."

The words pierced Hawk's soul, galvanizing him to move. He had to get to both her and Jon. If she was dead, there was no way in heaven that Jonathon Power was going to walk away from the battle alive. He'd loose them both.

Hustling towards the site of the explosion, Hawk cursed again the fates that had led them to this moment. A communication, intercepted on a rarely used frequency, had told them about the facility they were trying to breach. The message had been clear. Stop whatever was happening here if they were to ever have a hope of stopping Dread.

Only now, it was becoming clear that it had all been a lie to draw them in; a trap. A desperate effort from a desperate man, bent on destroying what little beauty there was left in the world.

"We've got company," Scout's voice announced. "And a lot of them. Dread's got to be throwing everything he's got at us." The distant sounds of weapons firing told Hawk that Scout and Tank were already engaged in battle. A stream of blaster fire erupted at him at almost the same moment.

Returning fire, Hawk cursed at the tin cans that were slowing him down. The Captain's voice allowed him to take a breath of air. "I've got Pilot. Hawk and I will get her out. You and Scout get to the ship and prep it. We'll meet you there."

At least that meant she was alive.

"Captain, you've got a whole bunch of tin cans coming in on your six," Baker warned.

Angling down the hillside toward his downed comrades, Masterson could see the squads of biomechs coming at them. Scout had been right when he said that Dread was throwing everything he had at them. Pausing, Hawk fired two small missiles into the advancing force. If nothing else, it would disorientate them for a few seconds while he crossed the open area.

Sliding to a halt behind Pilot and Power, Hawk pumped shot after shot into the nearing troopers. "Gettin' a little crowded around here," he yelled over his shoulder. Staggering as several shots bounced off his suit, the older man could hear Tank's announcement that Blastarr was making is way to them also. The day just kept getting better and better.

Kneeling down on the opposite side of Jon, Hawk could hear Pilot tell him to get to safety. "Go," she moaned, closing her eyes. "Get out of here."

And leave her there? That was not going to happen. "You're coming with us," Hawk said, laying his hand on the young woman. Chancing a brief distraction, he took his eyes off of the troopers to assess the damage. From the amount of blood, she didn't look good.

Pilot's head lulled toward the new voice. "Hawk." she breathed.

"In the flesh," Matt teased lightly to cover up his concern. Raising his eyes to capture Jonathon's, he added quietly, "Tank and Scout said Blastarr's moving in quick."

After acknowledging the other two, Jon leaned over Pilot. "Jennifer, listen to me. We've got to go. Can you get up?"

If the Biodread caught them like this, none of them would stand a chance. As if to emphasize the point, numerous shots from Dread's forces began to hit the ground around them. Returning fire, Hawk shifted to provide Pilot with some cover. Without her suit, she was more vulnerable than either he or Power.

Hawk winced when he heard her cry out. Glancing back, he could tell that Jonathon was running his hand across her chest and ribs. Hawk didn't need to be a lip reader to know when Power found broken bones.

The force of a grenade going off nearby sent the older man to his knees. Struggling upward, he returned fire before leaping back to Jennifer's side. "We go now," he snapped at Power, helping to lift her to her feet. "You take her. I'll cover you."

Placing himself between the younger pair and the advancing troops, Hawk fired repeatedly at the enemy advancing quickly on them. The trouble was that there were too many of them and they had spread out, trying to surround them.

Bolts of energy bounced around the trio, many hitting Masterson dead center in the chest. He'd take every hit if he could if it meant that he could protect the other two. They were far more important. He'd lived his life already. They hadn't. And if one didn't make it, the other would not be long for this earth.

If that happened, the resistance was all but finished.

Besides, he wasn't sure he could make it through losing either of them. It had about destroyed him when they had lost Jennifer the first time. Not only did he have to deal with his own grief and anger, he had to find some way to keep Jon going. To do it again… it could mean the end for all of them.

Staggering again against the onslaught of weapon fire, he wondered how long they would be able to hold out. The sound of gunfire behind him told him that the troopers were trying to cut off their escape route and that Jonathon was doing his best to stop them.

"Warning. Power level at thirty percent and dropping. Recharge immediately."

Yeah, right. Glancing backwards, Matt could tell they were still several hundred yards from the ship. Too far.

Triggering his intercom he called out. "Tank, we need some help."

"I'm on my way."

"No time. Send a couple grenades our way. South, southeast," Hawk yelled, sending several shots into a squad that was sneaking up on the left side.

"Too dangerous. I can't see you."

"If you don't, we aren't going to make it there," Masterson snapped back, flinching from the sparks dancing off his armor. It wasn't going to take much more of this.

"Stay there and do it. If we aren't there in three minutes, you and Scout take the ship and get out of here. That's an order," the Captain interjected, putting a stop to any further discussion on the matter.

Glancing over at him, Hawk could see that Jonathon was loosing ground as quickly as he was. He was literally holding Pilot up and trying to protect her while fighting off the troops. If they were really lucky, the grenades would buy them the time they needed. If not, well, there wasn't much left to do but take out as many as they could before they were captured or killed.

Hearing the whine of the incoming grenades, Hawk yelled "DOWN" before throwing himself to the ground. He barely got his face shielded before the impact of the first grenade. Almost immediately, a second more powerful blast erupted, causing a cascade effect of smaller explosions. The ground under Hawk shuddered and obliterated the sound of his suit warning him of complete system failure.

An eerie silence descended on the area. Hawk wasn't sure if it had really gotten quiet or if he had just lost his hearing from the proximity of the blasts. Slowly raising his head, he looked around.

Dead troopers littered the ground. Spinning around to sit upright, he searched frantically for some sight of the other two. A grin split his face as he saw Jonathon shifting his position to ease the pressure off of Jennifer's body where he had thrown himself. His suit had also deactivated, the blast drawing the last of its energy.

Scrambling over to them, Hawk looked anxiously at the pair. "Jon?"

"She's still with us," Power breathed, nodding at the older man.

Squeezing Power's shoulder, the Matt grinned in relief. "Let's get out of here before Blastarr gets here." Rising, he brought Jennifer up with him, again easing her against Jon. She was barely conscious, moving more on sheer instinct than anything else. Helping them both up the small hill that lead to the ship, Matt prayed to the heavens to give them just a little more time to escape.

Reaching the ship, Hawk stayed back to provide cover as Tank lifted Pilot into the hold. As she disappeared from view, Hawk could hear the tell-tale sounds of Blastarr's wheels grinding across the ground. Bloody hell. Scurrying up the stairs, Matt barely made it to the front when the first bolt of energy slammed into the ship, rocking it.

"Hang on," Matt threw over his shoulder, sliding into Pilot's seat. "It's gonna be a rough takeoff." Jabbing the buttons to fire up the engine, it had barely caught before he began the climb. Clearing ground, the shipped careened from another blast before he could send the thrusters to maximum power. "Come on, come on," Matt urged, trying to get the ship to respond faster than it was. It was only a matter of time before Blastarr's shots penetrated something vital.

Behind him, he could hear the Captain barking out orders to Tank to fire at the Biodread trying to bring them down. Hawk knew that he wanted nothing more than to be with Pilot, but Jonathon had a duty to make sure they all got out safely. Hell, it was his duty also.

Climbing out of Blastarr's range of fire, Matt began to take a breath. A short hop and they would be at the Passages and medical help. Reaching up to key in the coordinates for the gate jump, he was stopped by the ship shuddering and rolling forcefully.

"Soaron," Matt growled under his breath, knowing immediately what had happened. There was nothing else in the sky that had that kind of firepower to use against them. "We've got more company," he announced to the others.

His words brought Jonathon to his side. "We don't have time to mess with him," Power snapped. "See if you can shake him."

Making a sharp banking dive, Masterson watched the sensors to see if the Biodread was following. Seeing a tell tale blip on the screen, he made a sharp right turn into the sun, the ship whining from the stress of the sudden turn. Weapon fire hitting the hull told him that the mechanical bird had not been deterred.

"We don't have time for this," Jonathon barked. "Get ready," he said, before heading to the back of the ship. "Tank, sidewinders when Hawk brings us around. Try to blind him."

Knowing that Tank would be ready, Hawk brought the ship back in line with Soaron. Watching the sensors, Masterson registered the explosion and the sudden descent of the Biodread. Quickly triggering the transit gate, he flew the ship through it and headed for the Passages.

He had barely set the ship down before he heard the sound of the hatch opening and Tank carrying Pilot out, Jonathon with them. Shutting down the engines, he tried to tell himself that the shaking in his hand was vibration from the ship.

In reality, he knew it wasn't.

"Hawk?"

Matt clenched his fist at Scout's call to hide the tremors. "Just securing the ship. You go on. I'll be there in a minute," he called back, busying himself with various procedures until he heard Baker leave.

Holding his breath to make sure he was alone, Matt relaxed when he heard nothing more. A long breath escaped him as he laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes.

There had been so much blood.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. This time though it had been worse. This time it had been on a young woman who was like a daughter to him. A brave vibrant woman who had been through too much pain already. One who had already sacrificed herself twice to the mechanized nightmare that surrounded their existence: once as a Dread youth, then as digitized atoms suspended in the cold lifeless core of a biodread.

Now, she could be sacrificed again. Only this time, there would be no awakening, no reanimation. No salvation.

And, for what?

There were no humans saved, no setback to Dread's plan achieved. It had all been for nothing; just another one of Dread's futile attempts to eliminate the one real threat to his existence.

A wave of anger swept through Hawk, the force of it compelling him to slam his fist into the arm of the seat. "Damn you Limon Taggert," Hawk growled through clenched teeth. "You and every one of those tin cans you hold so dear."

A grim resolution settled into Matt's soul. There would be no escape for Dread if Jennifer died today. No amount of machines or weapons or technology would save him. Hawk promised himself that. With his last breath if necessary, he would destroy Lord Dread, make him pay for all the grief, damage and despair he had brought to the world.

He'd get revenge for her. He'd get revenge for all of them.

CP-CP-CP


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I know it has been a long time since I posted to this story, but the good Captain and I have been having a **_slight_** disagreement about where he wished for his story to pick up. I thought we had covered the initial incident enough; he didn't. Needless to say, he wouldn't cooperate until I let him tell his story, his way. Lesson reinforced – don't mess with the Muse. It always wins. I appreciate all of your kind words for this story and I hope this segment doesn't disappoint you. Enjoy.

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CP-CP-CP

"NO!"

The anguished, animalistic roar that erupted from Captain Jonathon Power's throat was drowned out by the blast destroying the small structure more than 200 yards from him. Instinctively ducking, his eyes never moved from the sight of Corporal Jennifer "Pilot" Chase flying through the air like a ragdoll. His stomach clenched in fear as he watched her slam into the rocks and hard dirt while her suit shut down.

Staggering from shock, Jon began moving on sheer instinct. He fought to get the words past the knot in his throat as took a few steps forward. "JENNIFER! STATUS!"

A momentary silence resonated through his headset before hushed words penetrated the blackness dancing in his peripheral vision.

"Pilot's down."

Tank's words served to break the paralyzing grip on his movements. Running towards her position, he was vaguely aware of the sound of fire erupting from multiple areas of the compound.

At this moment, it was irrelevant.

Only one thing mattered to him. Getting to Jennifer.

Sliding to his knees, he gasped as he saw the wide ragged tear in the side of her head. Yanking off his glove, he raised a shaking hand to her throat. A weak thumping of her pulse vibrated under his touch. "Thank you, God," he whispered, laying a hand on her face.

"You're going to be okay, Jennifer," he urged her in a harsh whisper, his eyes shifting down her body to look for other injuries. Running hands quickly down her legs and arms, he watched her features for any sign he was causing her pain. "Just hang on."

There was so much blood.

Training overrode emotion. Reaching into Jennifer's pack, he searched desperately for the small med kit in it. Before he could find it, movement from Pilot diverted his attention.

As her eyes fluttered, a breath of hope escaped Power. "Jennifer? Jennifer, can you hear me?" A moan met his anxious words.

Brushing back the hair from her face, he again rested his hand against her cheek. "Stay with me, Jennifer."

Unfocused blue eyes opened and stared at him. "Jon," Pilot croaked, as she wrapped her hand around his arm.

Blaster fire hitting a nearby rock startled him. Looking around, he spotted Hawk running across the open expanse. Behind him, he could see waves of troopers coming through the smoke from the smoldering ruins. The sickening reality that it had all been a trap twisted its sharp blade into his gut.

Triggering his communicator, he snapped orders for the others. "I've got Pilot. Hawk and I will get her out. You and Scout get to the ship and prep it. We'll meet you there."

"Captain, you've got a whole bunch of tin cans coming in on your six."

Scout's warning was no surprise. Behind him, Jon heard the whine of Hawk's weapons. Over the pandemonium, he vaguely registered Masterson's yelling at him. "Gettin' a little crowded around here."

Rubbing his thumb on her cheek, Jon tried to stifle the fear eating at him. It would only frighten her more. "You're going to be okay. We'll get you out of here and fixed up in no time".

"Go," she moaned, closing her eyes. "Get out of here."

"You're coming with us," Hawk said, kneeling on the opposite side of Jon to lay his hand on the young woman.

Jon swallowed hard when Hawk flinched as he ran assessing eyes over Chase. Before he could say anything however, Jennifer allowed her head to roll toward the new voice.

"Hawk." she breathed.

"In the flesh," Matt teased Jennifer lightly, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Captain, Hawk. Blastarr's coming to join the party. Two klicks, max," Tank announced gravely.

"And he's moving fast," Scout added, the seriousness of the situation in his tone.

Raising his eyes to capture Power's, Hawk nudged the Captain quietly as he saw no indication that Jonathon had heard the warning. "Tank and Scout said Blastarr's moving in quick."

Not good.

"Roger," Jon said, acknowledging the additional threat and looking to see if he could see the large Biodred anywhere. "Get going." Glancing back at Hawk, he saw his own worry reflected in the older man's features. "We've got to get to the ship." Nodding in agreement, Masterson stood up.

"Jennifer, listen to me, we've got to go. Can you get up?"

"Side," she whispered, her hand moving towards it.

Pressing his hand against her side, an explicative slipped from Jon's lips as he felt the ragged edge of bone. Moving farther in, he drew a sharp breath as he felt that her abdomen was rigid.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he slid an arm under her shoulder. Before he could rise, a grenade blew near them. Reflectively, Jon shielded her from the flying debris. Sitting back up, he looked quickly to make sure the shrapnel had not hit her.

"We go now," Matt snapped at Power, helping to lift Jennifer to her feet. "You take her. I'll cover you."

Struggling to shield Pilot while also defending from the advancing troops was a challenge. He had to keep her upright, violently pulling, pushing or twisting her body to keep them moving forward and keep her from the path of weapon fire. Each movement strained her injured torso or jerked her ravaged head, intensifying her pain and amplifying her injuries.

He hated himself more every time he did it.

There was no escaping the fact that he was the one responsible for her being hurt. He was the one who heard the unsolicited radio message from an unknown source and deemed it to be valid – with no attempt to determine proof, source, verification or voracity. He was the one to determine they needed to recon and destroy whatever they found – with absolute conviction his quest was righteous and justified. He was the one who allowed her to move towards that door – with flagrant disregard for her safety or continued existence.

Everything about this day was on him – with no chance of absolution or repentance.

Hearing the sound of soldiers coming up on his left, Jonathon snapped several shots towards them. As return fire came his way, he ducked. Each time a shot bounced off his back or shoulders, he flinched praying it would deflect away from her.

Chancing a look up the hill, Jonathon mentally cringed. The distance to the ship seemed insurmountable.

Vaguely Jon was aware that Hawk was firing repeatedly behind him. A new wave of guilt stabbed through him. He could be of no help to his friend and mentor should Matt go down. Doing so would mean sacrificing Jennifer.

The bitter taste of that insight lingered in his mouth. He could be left with making a choice between successfully saving one or trying in vain to save both of them. A sardonic laugh echoed in his head as he realized it was the quintessential consequence for fundamentally flawed decisions and corresponding rash actions.

"Tank, we need some help." The Major's frantic call filtered through the din.

"I'm on my way."

"No time. Send a couple grenades our way. South, southeast," Hawk yelled back.

"Too dangerous. I can't see you." Jonathon heard the implications of Tank's words. Sending them in blind could result in a direct hit – on them.

"If you don't, we aren't going to make it there," Masterson snapped back, his words interspersed with weapon fire.

Hearing the warning indicator on his suit telling him that time was quickly running out, Jon ended the debate. "Stay there and do it. If we aren't there in three minutes, you and Scout take the ship and get out of here. That's an order," he growled, hoping the command tone would be enough to compel Tank and Scout to obey.

At least maybe he could save them from his mistakes.

The whine of the incoming grenades pierced the air. Almost simultaneously, Hawk bellowed, "DOWN."

Throwing them to the ground, Jon scrambled to cover her. Bracing himself, he had intended to merely shield her. The force of the grenades exploding followed by a more powerful blast propelled him forward. Almost simultaneously, he felt the tingle of the energy field of his power suit flicker and collapse as it died out.

Stunned, it took a moment to realize that he was lying across Jennifer. Shoving his body upward, a wave of fear flooded his soul as he realized she was not moving. It was possible the weight of his body had driven bone into her heart.

Panic threatened to seize him. "No, no, no," he whispered desperately, frantically feeling for a pulse. A wave of relief cascaded though him as he felt the irregular cadence of her pulse under his fingers. "Fight Jennifer. I need you with me," he whispered.

"Jon?" Hawk asked anxiously, coming closer and seeing traces of fear in his features.

"She's still with us," Jon breathed, nodding at the older man.

Squeezing Power's shoulder, Matt grinned in relief. "Let's get out of here before Blastarr gets here."

Again the men brought Chase to her feet. Easing her against his body, Jon couldn't help but to look backwards. Although he didn't see any sign of the incoming threat, his instincts told him he wasn't far away. Struggling up the incline, he could feel Jennifer weakening more. "Almost there," he droned softly, trying to encourage her to keep moving. "Just a little bit farther."

By the time they reached the top of the hill, he was practically carrying her. While she was trying desperately to put one foot in front of the other, he had no doubt she was running on pure survival instinct. He wasn't even sure she could hear or understand his words anymore.

Getting to the stairs, Jon thrust his chin up, indicating that Tank should take her. Turning to make sure Matt was with him, he quickly followed the older man up the stairs as the sound of the biodred's wheels penetrating the rocky soil reached them. He was even with the door when the first wave of fire slammed into the side of the ship.

Jamming his hand on the door control before he was completely through the portal, Jon staggered as another volley of energy pounded the ship.

"Hang on," Matt called from the front of the ship. "It's gonna be a rough takeoff."

Launching toward Tank, Jon used the bulkhead to keep his feet as the ship began to buck and lurch. "Lock on and give us some cover," he snapped to the big man.

Feeling the ship careen into the air and out of range of Blastarr, Power patted Tank's shoulder to recognize him for a job well done. Turning to go back towards his seat, he was stopped by the chilling scene of Rob wrapping a bandage around Jennifer's head.

Gripping the bulkhead again, Jon forced his legs to keep him upright. The grim reality of her injuries was once again obvious. Stealing himself, he tried to turn his eyes away only to stop when his gaze reached his hands. They were red with blood.

Jennifer's blood.

The ship lurching violently forestalled any further examination of this. "We've got more company," Hawk announced.

Jon scrambled to the front of the ship. Reading the scans, he confirmed that Soaron had found them. "We don't have time to mess with him," he snapped. "See if you can shake him."

Feeling the ship make a sharp banking dive, Jon watched the sensors to see if the mechanical bird was following. The force of the ship taking a sudden sharp right turn required him to brace himself from falling. He could feel the ship shuddering in reaction the strain of the maneuvers as well as the weapon fire pounding into it. It wasn't going to take much more of it.

And every minute they delayed, decreased Jennifer's chance of survival.

"We don't have time for this," Jonathon ground out impatiently between clenched teeth. If they didn't loose him soon, he'd have to take the XT and see if he could divert him to allow Hawk to get Jennifer to the Passages. Desperately seeking alternatives, he grabbed at the first potential that came to mind. It had worked before and he hoped that the big clunker hadn't suddenly gotten smarter. "Get ready," he said to Hawk, before heading to the back of the ship.

"Tank, sidewinders when Hawk brings us around. Try to blind him." Leaning over, Jon watched the radar screens at Ellis' station. Feeling the ship begin its turn, he held his breath. "Wait, wait," he muttered, calculating the distance between the ship and the radar blip. If they timed this wrong, Soaron would have enough warning to evade the missile. "Now! Fire!" he snapped.

"Got him!" Jon announced relieved, slapping the big man on the shoulder. Almost immediately he felt the spatial disorientation that occurred as they passed through the transit gate. It wouldn't be long now.

Moving down the steps to the hold where Jennifer lay, Jonathon paled as he saw how white and unmoving she was. Raising questioning eyes to Scout, he saw the same concern in his eyes.

"She's hanging on, but not by much," Robert said somberly.

Kneeling beside her, Jon brushed his fingers across her cheek, being careful not to dislodge the oxygen. It was all so … unnecessary. Pointless even. The whole thing had been for nothing. Was he simple kidding himself believing they were making a difference?

Ultimately, would their struggles and deaths be meaningless sacrifices? Was this the fate that awaited each of them?

"Let me take her, Captain." Michael's voice was soft and full of emotion as it floated over Jon.

Glancing back, he was about to object when he saw the raw pain in the big man's eyes. Jon knew Jennifer held a special place in all of their hearts and as much as he was hurting, he couldn't allow his own despair to override their need in the situation to make the situation better. Right now, Ellis needed to do something. The only thing left was to carry her to the doctors. Stepping back, Jon nodded to Tank.

Silently, he followed him out of the ship.

CP –CP- CP

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A/N2: What can I say, I love to write a tormented, guilt-ridden, self-doubting Jon. Unfortunately, that means Jennifer often takes the brunt of the injuries – ouch. (I really am a Jon/Jennifer fan – honest!) Obviously, this story isn't quite finished. Will see who wishes to come thru for the finale. Thoughts? Preference on who it should be? Thanks for reading and for letting me know what you thought about it.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: A huge thank you to Dana and Windjammer. Their reviews sparked the finish of this story for me and it just flowed. As always, an stretching of medical 'stuff' is on me and is done purely for the purpose of the story. Try not to get too deep, but have to deal with a little bit here. Now, on to the finale of Deflection.

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CP-CP-CP

"You know one day we are all going to die, don't you? Someday, we are going to be gone and all of this will still be here."

The words echoed in Jon's head taunting him. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth to fight against the truth of those prophetic words. He refused to let it be true.

"Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day, on some mission, one of us is not going to come home alive." A moment of silence descended to allow the meaning to sink in further. "Wearing these suits doesn't make us immortal or invincible. They merely delay the inevitable. You can't stop it. One day, it _will_ happen."

"It might be an accident. It could be a lucky shot by one of Dread's pieces of junk. A suit shutting down; a sky bike faltering; or something completely unexpected like a bomb." The tone of the words became harder. "Even the great Jonathon Power can't alter that fate, no matter how hard you try or how much you want it. You are going to loose all of us someday."

Slowly shaking his head, Jonathon raised his head and stared flatly at the speaker. "But not today," he said quietly.

"Are you so sure?" the voice asked. "If not today, when? Tomorrow? The next day? Next year? I can hear those questions in your head." A short mocking laugh erupted from the speaker. "Or maybe you'll die first. Did you ever think of that?"

Snapping upright, Jon drew in a sharp ragged breath, his eyes darting around the room. The memory of the dream was fresh in his mind. It had been so real.

Instinctively, he searched for the others. One by one, he locked eyes with Hawk, Tank and Scout. Each time he saw concern and a questioning gaze in their features. Allowing the breath he had been holding to escape, he shifted to a more comfortable sitting position.

He had not intended to go to sleep. He wasn't even sure how it had happened. Glancing at his watch, he realized he hadn't been under for long. Twenty minutes at the most. Twenty minutes out the seven hours they had been waiting for news on the fate of Jennifer.

Unbidden, the mocking tone echoed in his head once more. It seemed so real. Just like the rest of the day.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "No word yet?"

Shaking his head, Matt watched as Jon ran a trembling hand over his face at the news. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but it had disturbed the younger man. Of that he had no doubt.

Averting his eyes down, Masterson played with the edge of the bandage on his arm. He wasn't sure exactly when he had taken the hit, but as some point in the day, he had been singed by a lucky shot. He hadn't even felt it until much later. Waiting was like that. Little things that you total ignored before come roaring for attention.

Little things - like living and dying. Thoughts about how fleeting one could be; how unexpected the other could be.

None of them liked to think about it, but each knew there were many ways to physically die. Accidently. Intentionally. Naturally. The odds were that theirs would be not be natural deaths. Still, even that was better than the alternatives.

The alternatives were the worse – these were the metaphorical fatalities. Those tiny pieces of your soul that get ripped from your very being, leaving gaping holes that are never filled, never healed. Not completely anyway. They may scab over from time to time, until something comes along and shreds away any fragile protection that you managed to erect, leaving them to ooze and bleed all over again.

Physical death only happens once - usually. Metaphorical ones can happen over and over again.

Take today for example… today had been one of those metaphorical events. Today, the pain of loosing his daughter was once again gory and raw. The flimsy coating that had guarded him from the agony had been torn away by the sight of another young woman fighting for her life. Another young woman, one who he loved like a daughter. Another gaping wound to join the many others that lingered in his shattered soul.

Those were worse because the pain was always fresh. It never leaves.

If he were truthful with himself, he'd recognize there was more than one wound weeping in him. There was one for his wife, another for his son, and still more for the countless friends and extended family that had been killed since the war had started. And there was the one caused by Jennifer's death the first time.

Funny that one still lingered, even though she had eventually lived again. He couldn't help but wonder if she could be resurrected again? Was it possible to pull her back from the brink of the darkness that was calling to her again?

Was the siren's song strong enough to lure her to go deeper into the abyss? Or could the hearts and prayers of four men keep her on this earth a while longer?

Was it enough?

Looking up, Matt found brown eyes boring into him. Raising an eyebrow, Matt forced his features to relax. "You okay?" he asked, his voice sounding odd in the silence of the room.

Nodding, Rob wondered what had been going through Masterson's mind that had brought such pain and sadness to his features. Not that he needed any other reason than the events of today to do it.

Still, it had appeared much deeper; more intense. An emotion so strong that it consumes all other feelings; all other thoughts.

He could relate. Except his feeling was one of confusion. Confusion about how today had happened.

Why it had happened.

Why had they believed a radio message from someone they had never met? Sure, there were resistance fighters all over the globe. Many were mere ghosts to the world. Marauders, who would swiftly and silently strike against Dread, then disappear into oblivion. No one knew when or where they would strike again. The only thing that was certain was that they would be back at some point, in some manner.

Not everyone could afford to be as well known as this team was.

Is this who the Captain thought was calling them, one of these apparitions?

The radio channel was foreign to them. The message had been both explicit and cryptic. To stop Dread, they needed to stop what was happening at that base. Yet, the message never said what the purpose of the base was. No information on troop strength, supply runs, or anticipated resistance was relayed. Nothing that would tell them what they were in for. Merely a message that they had to succeed at all costs.

It had been fluke that they had found it. A routine scan of the bandwidth had brought the message to light. What had made the Captain so sure the radio signal would lead them to something worth dying over?

Instinct? Passion? Curiosity? Boredom? Arrogance? Desperation?

What had caused him to accept something so obscure without question? To challenge death without cause or reason?

Looking toward Power, he thought about asking him. That was until he saw how drawn and grave his features were. To ask him now would be like driving the figurative knife that was in his heart a little bit deeper. It would be twisting it to cause needless pain; to ensure death.

He would not do that.

Not yet at least. If Jennifer died, then all bets were off. Then he would have to know. He would have to understand or he would never again be able to trust his leadership. Even then, there would be no guarantees.

He did not realize he had clenched his fists until he felt Tank's hand on his. Startling, he locked eyes with the big man. Allowing his lungs to take in air, he let it slip out between his lips, forcing his body and hands to relax. Taking in another breath, he nodded to his friend.

Waiting until the anger left Scout's features, Tank lifted his hand away. He had seen the rage in the younger man's eyes. Rage directed at the Captain.

Not that he could blame him for being angry. He had been angry too for a while, but not at Power. Power was not to blame for the situation today.

If Scout wanted to be angry with someone, he should be angry at Dread.

Without Dread, none of today would have been necessary. They would not have been at that base. There wouldn't have been a base to begin with. Instead, it could have been a shop, a church, or maybe a school. Anything but what it was.

But it wasn't any of the things it _should_ have been. It had been a military structure, some piece of Dread's master plan. A piece that for whatever reason was no longer there. But why or how it had been destroyed, that was something of a mystery.

It should not have blown up like it did. They didn't have the firepower to do that – not from the surface anyway. The explosives he had sent into the soldiers to provide Hawk, Pilot and Power cover had not penetrated deep enough to damage the underground facility.

Yet somehow, immediately upon their detonation, a much larger explosion had erupted - for no apparent reason.

Just like there was no apparent reason for Jennifer to be injured. She had barely touched the door when it blew.

A trap? Maybe, but somehow it didn't feel right. If Dread had wanted to trap them, it would have made more sense to let the team enter the facility.

No, this was something else.

Allowing his eyes to land on his leader, he wondered if the Captain had realized that yet. From his body language and facial expressions, he doubted it. He was still living in the moment of the event. He had not yet incorporated it, scanned it from every side, replayed each moment in his mind. He had not detached from it.

And he wouldn't for a while. It was still too raw.

At this moment, the Captain couldn't see it like he did. He knew all too well that this was a war; and in war, decisions sometimes lead to damage and death. Even good decisions; right decisions. Like the decision to conduct a reconnaissance on a previously unknown installation. It was irrelevant how they had learned about it. They had no choice but to find out more about it.

How else were they going to stay ahead of Dread?

The door to the small waiting room opening brought all four men to their feet.

"Owen?" Jonathon asked anxiously, moving closer to the elderly physician who had entered the room.

Doctor Owen Gentry nodded his head, trying to relieve the worry and pain that permeated each man in front of him. "It was touch and go for quite a while, but that woman," Owen shook his head in wonder. "She is a fighter."

Lowering his body into a chair, Owen tried to ignore the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm him. Waiting until the team had regained their seats, he smiled gratefully at the glass of water that was passed to him. Taking a sip, he lowered it and began to speak.

"We were able to stop the internal bleeding pretty quickly. The big problem was the bleeding and swelling that kept happening in her cranium. It took us a while to get on top of that. Didn't think she was going to pull through a couple times," he observed, frowning into the liquid in his hand. "But, I'm glad to say I was wrong. She's in the regenerator now. I'll want her in there for some time to allow as much healing as possible to happen."

"What about long term effects?" Hawk asked huskily. "How much brain damage can we expect?" he added, voicing the concern that was foremost in all of their minds.

Frowning, Owen shifted. "I _hope_ we were able to relieve the pressure quick enough so there won't be any. We'll know when she wakes up. The injury was in her temporal lobe which controls speech, memory and recognition. If she knows you, that will be a good sign."

"And if she doesn't?" Jon asked.

"Then we'll have to see. Sometimes the brain can re-route its connections around damaged areas."

"Like when I hotwire a computer?" Scout inquired.

Chuckling, Owen nodded. "Exactly. But," he added, standing up, "let's not dwell on the worse case scenario. Be happy she's alive and as for the rest, we'll deal with that when the time comes."

Shaking the older man's hand, Jon swallowed hard. "I don't know how I can possibly thank you or repay you for what you have done for her."

Waiving it off, Owen patted Jon's hand. "You just did."

CP-CP-CP

Holding Jennifer's hand, Jon absentmindedly rubbed circles on it with his thumb. Thinking about the last several days, he sighed. Since coming out of surgery the day before, she had been through three sessions in the regenerator. Even with that, she had not awakened.

That was doing nothing to ease his trepidation about her well-being or the guilt.

Although the team had debriefed and agreed with Tank that there was more going on than they knew, that intellectual activity did little to ease the remorse and self-reproach he felt. Yes, while it was true they had needed to do a reconnaissance of the installation, there was no reason they could not have waited and surveyed it for a time before trying to enter it. On the surface it had looks minimal; nothing to justify an immediate breach. It could have been one of hundred similar outposts they had seen.

Yet, he had chosen to allow her to go in unnecessarily. If he had just waited….

Reaching up, Jon trailed his fingers down Jennifer's cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish you would wake up so I could tell you that."

A soft knock on the door drew his attention. Squeezing Jennifer's hand one more time, he moved across the room to meet his team. After grabbing a couple hours sleep, the three had decided to make some inquiries to determine if another resistance group had been conducting an operation at the installation.

"Any change?" Masterson asked, glancing at the bed.

Shaking his head, Jon changed the subject. "Find out anything?"

"Nothing," Scout replied. "No one knows anything about the facility or how it blew up. They think we did it."

"We didn't shatter the illusion," Hawk added dryly.

Looking at Chase to reaffirm for himself that she was still with them, Tank was surprised to see blue eyes looking back at him. "Captain."

Tank's softly spoken word brought all of the men's attention to Jennifer. Quickly they bridged the gap between where they had been and where she laid.

A small smile showed on her features as she raised a hand in greeting. The small gesture sent relief flooding through the team.

"Look who's awake," Scout teased, smiling. "How ya feeling? Hey, hey, leave that alone," he chided, grabbing her hand has it moved toward the bandage on her head. Squeezing it slightly, he placed it back on the linens. "That needs to stay there for a little while."

Watching the faces of the men around her, Chase could read the fatigue and worry in their features. "Bad?" Chase asked, her voice raspy.

Jon forced a smile on his face. "Nothing that time and a little rest won't cure," he assured her, patting her shoulder before sitting down beside her.

"Oh no you don't," Hawk chided, pulling on Jon's arm trying to get him to stand. "You said that once she woke up, you'd get some sleep."

"I will," Power breathed. Glancing back, he added, "Just give me five minutes."

Reading in Jon's face he needed this time, Matt conceded. "Okay, five minutes, no more." Softening his features, he looked at Chase. "Don't worry. We'll stay with her."

Trailing after Rob and Michael as they exited the room for a few minutes, Matt allowed a long breath to escape him. They had gotten lucky.

Death had been deflected one more time.

CP-CP-CP

Epilogue:

Moving quietly through the twilight, a dark figure glanced around uneasily. This was dangerous and highly unusual.

Stopping in the shadows, he pressed himself against the building until the Biomechs passed. Counting to ten to allow them enough time to leave the immediate vicinity, he eased himself to the corner. Pausing he listened intently. A slight scuff of a shoe was the only indication he was no longer alone.

"Status?" a faint female voice drifted around the corner to him.

"The base was totally destroyed," he breathed, making no attempt to see the person he was speaking to. "Our contacts were able to escape before it blew, but…," he paused knowing the implications of his next statement. "Power was there. He must have intercepted the transmission."

"And?"

"They blew the escape hatch early to prevent Power from entering. Unfortunately, the woman was severely injured."

"Did she survive?"

Looking around quickly to ensure no one else had joined them, he replied. "Unknown. There have been no sightings of them in the past 72 hours." Silence met his statement. He had begun to think she had left when another statement carried to him in the night air.

"We'll have to be more careful with our communication in the future. Notify the others to alternate frequencies from here on. Four megahertz each time. Power's team must not find us again. We can't afford to loose them. We need Dread's attention on them, not us."

"Agreed," he stated, knowing the meeting had gone on too long already. Waiting for another patrol to pass by, he picked his way back to the facility entrance. Waiting until the spotlight passed, he keyed in the code and slipped back inside.

Straightening his jacket, he set his shoulders and forced his features to become granite. Nothing could seem different. Striding away from the doorway, he made his way down the long hallway.

"Commander."

Bracing himself, he turned disdainful eyes towards the mechanical soldier who called for him. Raising an eyebrow expectedly, he waited.

"Lord Dread wishes to see you immediately."

Acknowledging, he marched towards the central core. Pausing to allow the door to open, he stepped inside. "My Lord?" he said, coming to attention.

"What is the status of your investigation into the destruction of the base?" Dread queried spinning to look at the human before him. "Have you determined the cause of the blast?"

"Still unknown, sire," the Commander intoned. "It appears that while Power's team was there, it is unclear if he entered the facility."

"I see," Dread intoned slowly. "Have you talked to the base commander to confirm that Power was behind it?"

"Dead, my Lord. As are all the other humans. We are attempted to retrieve the computers, but they are extremely damaged."

"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. After a moment, he looked again at his trusted advisor. "Very well. Keep me informed."

Saluting, he replied, "Sir," before exiting, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The end

CP-CP-CP

A/N2: Okay, anyone see THAT one coming? G If any one wants with the concept of resistance fighters within Dread's forces, feel free. Just know I may work with this idea too. As for the identify of the speaker in Jon's dream, I leave that for you to fill in the blank. Personally, I could think of about seven or eight possibilities. Thank you again for reading and for taking the time to drop me note. I hope you enjoyed it.


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